


this is how we fall (fearful, willing)

by bummerang



Category: RWBY
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Pre-Canon, Angst, Cohabitation, F/M, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 08:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12477988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bummerang/pseuds/bummerang
Summary: Moments and ruminations, and then a decision.(Qrow discovers that love is everything he didn't know he wanted and it also comes with everything he isn't prepared to deal with. So he learns to share, to open, to fall.)





	this is how we fall (fearful, willing)

It was noon when Qrow finally returned to the apartment, thoroughly drenched from the rain. He kicked off his boots, peeled off his coat, left them to drip by the door, then went straight through the empty living room to the bedroom.

Ozpin was exactly where Qrow had left him, deeply asleep, still mounded up in every blanket they owned. He remained completely oblivious to Qrow squelching up to the window to open the blinds, allowing some of the meager light to filter through. Outside, the rain pattered on, and it would keep on it judging by the denser clouds on the horizon. It was almost soothing, watching the gray world through water speckled glass. He followed the droplets as they ran together against the backdrop of the city until he started to shiver.

He changed quickly, leaving the wet clothes where they dropped on the carpet, and then carefully eased onto the bed, trying not to rock the lumpy mattress too much. It was mostly habit. Ozpin could sleep through almost anything. Alarms; earthquakes; the asshole in the unit above them stomping around in the middle of the night.

But the moment Qrow started tugging on one of the blankets, the light snoring stopped. Ozpin shifted, then turned in small, slow increments. “Qrow?” he murmured, slurred with the remnants of sleep. He raised his head a little off the pillow, though his eyes remained closed.

“Hey.” He scooted closer and leaned over to press a kiss on his forehead. He meant to anyway, but he also wanted in on the fortress of blankets.

Ozpin squirmed. “Cold. And your hair's wet.” It sounded like ' _endyerherswit_ ', but Qrow had long since become fluent in semi-woken Ozpin.

“I went out. Early bird gets the not-shitty missions.” He meant it literally. “You'll like it. It's escort, but the client's a small-time book dealer. Should be a quiet week.”

Ozpin hummed agreement. “We're leaving now?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Mm.” He went quiet. After a minute, Qrow wondered if he'd fallen back asleep when he suddenly said, “Time?”

He glanced at the clock on their side table. “Almost 12:30.”

Ozpin groaned and rubbed ineffectually at his eyes. “Should get up.” Then he tried to, patting vaguely at the blankets and pulling at them sluggishly. His eyes were still closed. Qrow regarded him with fond exasperation.

“Go back to sleep,” he said, taking one of his roaming hands. Ozpin hissed dramatically as Qrow's icy fingers made contact, but Qrow only rolled his eyes. “You don't have anything to do today.”

“Laundry, packing, clearing out the cupboard and refrigerator,” he listed. His brow furrowed. “Have to clean my weapon. I think there's mud in the gears.”

“I'll do all that later. Just go back to sleep.”

“You'll forget. Remember the sentient cheese block?”

“It wasn't alive.” Might have grown a civilization, though. Qrow had ruthlessly cast it into the darkness when he'd chucked the block into a trash bag. “I'll handle everything. Pinky promise and shit,” and he did, looping their small fingers and shaking on it with finality. It got a small laugh out of Ozpin. “Just relax for today.”

Their last mission had been long. Tiring. Hunting people instead of grimm, a highly-organized bandit group that had been terrorizing the port towns along the southern coast of Anima. They were good—trained, likely former military, maybe hunters themselves or at least practiced in using aura—and they'd had a shit ton of raw dust crystals. Chasing people through a jungle while they shot at you was a bitch, but when they were also throwing tiny volatile crystals at you—well, that was some serious bullshit. It was a miracle there was even any jungle left, after.

Qrow had been useless for most of it. He'd fucked up, nearly got caught in an explosion, but the impact had still thrown him hard into a tree, knocking him out. When he'd woken up it had been to Ozpin's hand on his cheek, cold and soothing to his pounding head. Behind him, the bandits had been tied up and left unconscious under a tree. They'd looked a little singed.

The jungle around them had been blackened.

The first two days they were back, he'd spent them in bed, totally out. His aura had that familiar, brittle feel of being stretched too thin, like just touching him could break it. Maybe Qrow should have been used to it by now, but it just seemed wrong.

Qrow concentrated on the feel of Ozpin's aura, the calm ripple of it against his own. It felt normal. He'd had more than a week to recharge, but— “You all right?”

“Yes,” Ozpin answered without hesitation—he would even if he wasn't, but aura didn't lie. “Are you?”

Qrow blinked.

“I can feel you thinking.”

“Ah.” That was usually his line. “It's nothing. Don't worry about it.”

Ozpin frowned as if he absolutely intended to worry, but after a moment he sank back into the pillows and determinedly rubbed a hand up and down Qrow's arm. “You're like ice,” he muttered, sounding vaguely admonishing and clearer now that he was more awake.

“Well, if someone hadn't stolen all the blankets—“

Ozpin laughed and pulled up the edge of them after a brief struggle. “I'll share just this once.”

“Generous,” Qrow said, grinning. Then he lunged, latching on and pulling Ozpin close, causing him to laugh harder. He tucked his head under Qrow's chin, then muttered into his collar about horridly cold feet and how Qrow shouldn't sleep with wet hair. They settled in a tangle of limbs, cold and warm, but for all of Ozpin's complaints he didn't seem too bothered about sharing the bed with an icicle, though he shivered a little against him.

They spoke quietly as Ozpin drew lazy circles on his back with loose fingers. Just small, easy things that didn't require a lot of input from Ozpin, who was starting to doze. Ordering pizza for dinner because he didn't want to go out again, yes he was going to ask for spicy sauce for the base, yes he'd remember to tip _come on, Oz_. Qrow mentioned that Tai had called and sent along yet another picture of Yang and Ruby tearing through piles of leaves in the yard like small, colorful whirlwinds. Summer had then hijacked the call, telling them to visit already, what were they even doing.

Qrow kept talking as Ozpin's replies grew steadily fewer, shorter, until his breathing evened out. Qrow felt it, light and warm on his neck.

Eventually, Qrow drifted off too.

\---

Qrow suspected he was a closet romantic. He believed in love and all that nice crap, because it sure as hell was better than the alternative. He wasn't willing to admit any of this out loud, though, for fear of Taiyang leaping out of a corner and going all ' _I told you so_ '. But for all that, he couldn't say he'd ever been in love before.

Until now.

Raven once told him that it was like having everything you didn't know you wanted and it came with everything you weren't prepared to handle.

She had also said that being with Tai and Summer was the _most_ she'd ever felt in her life. But she still left. He wondered if maybe it was too much for her.

Sometimes, he thought he could understand that.

\---

The truth was, they were a disaster.

Qrow used to think normal was overrated, but that was before he realized normal at its best really meant somewhat stable, and a little stability wasn't a bad thing sometimes.

Neither of them were normal. He was literally bad luck incarnate and Oz was the host of some freaky-ass ancient aura. The universe and its shitty little jokes.

Every once in a while, Ozpin would come back from shopping with stuff he wouldn't normally buy, like a bottle of whiskey or a bag of brussel sprouts. The items weren't strange in themselves—except he wasn't much for hard liquor and he would rather fight a grown Nevermore than eat a single sprout. And he wouldn't remember picking them up. But he would remember that his predecessor had loved whiskey and that the fucking King of Vale himself had loved brussel sprouts.

Or Qrow would find him huddled in the bathtub with the curtain drawn, clutching at his head because being outside gave him a headache when he couldn't differentiate the city now and the city as _they_ remembered it twenty, forty, sixty years ago. Older than that, he got into unsettled plains territory and different constellations in the sky, and Qrow would sit with him there, just hold him and wait. Oz was getting better at sectioning off the memories, but sometimes _this_ shit happened and it was like ten steps back.

And then there was Qrow.

There was something highly demoralizing about the smallest thing going wrong at every other opportunity, like a thousand straws clambering to be the very last to break his back. So a lot of it was dumb shit. Like, actually the stupidest. They went through light bulbs like candy because they'd burn out faster than usual. Every other week there would be another burst pipe or the fridge motor would burn out or the sink would gargle up something foul. And it was tiring, but his semblance didn't just work little inconveniences.

Taking missions together was always a risk. Ozpin's aura could legitimately tank the craziest shit, but even he couldn't keep it up forever. When it ran out—and it often did—he was as vulnerable as anyone else. And Qrow wasn't exactly immune to his own semblance. Between the two of them, they would have racked up hospital bills into eternal debt if being a hunter didn't come with insurance. Taiyang always joked—not altogether humorously—that some major hospital was going to name whole wards after them someday.

Qrow was absolutely fucking scared.

It was hard, some days. There were times that they didn't know how to be around each other—when Ozpin shut down, when Qrow's anger was too much for the both of them, when they argued until there was nothing but raw aching between them—but they were trying. They were getting better at this. Sharing, falling.

And the good days were—they were _more_ than good. Hanging around the apartment, Qrow mending their clothes with Ozpin tucked against his side reading a book. Those rare mornings Ozpin would somehow wake up before Qrow and whip up chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast. When the elderly neighbors next door blasted their gramophone at three in the morning and Qrow, giving up on sleep, pulled his groggy boyfriend up to waltz with him, the two of them swaying awkwardly around their little bedroom, laughing between kisses. The peaceful ones where they slept in, staying in bed the whole day, curled into each other.

Qrow had so much more patience for Ozpin than he could ever muster for himself. He suspected the same was true for Oz. And maybe there was some roundabout, fucked up decency in that, because they could see the best and worst in each other. Because Qrow saw cunning and secrecy between the conviction and good intentions, and still chose. So had Ozpin.

Because of—in spite of—

Maybe, sometimes, they amounted to the same thing.

They found out they were good at holding each other up. That they wanted to. They were kind of unbalanced, a little cracked, and they didn't have anything resembling a plan, but the ground was solid.

They were building something good. Maybe better than.

\---

Every once in a while, Ozpin would get a mission from the headmasters that Qrow wasn't allowed to know about, let alone tag along with. And Ozpin would try to reassure him. _There's nothing to worry about._

The day Qrow stopped worrying was the day he died. And even then he wouldn't count on it. There was a shit ton of worrying to do. Ozpin was a very worrying person.

“I'm not going alone,” Ozpin said, carefully wrapping a case of dust rounds in a towel and tucking them into his bag. “They're also sending Hazel.”

“That really doesn't make me feel any better.” Hazel Rainart was the one that got sent when you were expecting things to go wrong, and things tended to go wrong around him one way or another. “What kinda relocation assignment needs that brick shithouse?”

Ozpin glanced at him reprovingly. “It's just a precaution.”

“ _You're_ the precaution. Rainart's preemptive cavalry.” Then it came to him. “It's the Winter Maiden again, isn't it?”

“I don't recall saying so.”

Qrow snorted. “She piss someone off again?”

Ozpin sighed and dropped beside his bag, wringing a shirt in his hands, a rare display of frustration. “I believe she's on a quest to clear out every gambling parlor in Vacuo.”

“How far has she gotten?”

_“Qrow.”_

He hadn't met any of the Maidens yet. He didn't even know their names—which, fine, he got it, he was still new to this Secret League of Secrets thing—but he was quite certain he liked the Winter Maiden on sheer principle. “When I signed up for this Maiden crap—officially,” he amended, sinking into the chair in front of Ozpin, “I thought we were supposed to protect them from evil, not debtors and mercenaries.”

“I've heard it argued that they are sometimes a kind of evil. More like, we must protect them from those who would take advantage.” Ozpin smiled wryly. “Rethinking your life choices?”

“Maybe.” Qrow did his best not to sigh at the sliver of wariness on Ozpin's face. “Maybe we're in the wrong game and we should actually be using our badass skills at counting cards.”

_“Qrow,”_ but it was more relieved than reproving, and it settled heavy in Qrow's gut.

They'd been over it, that whole thing about shit being dangerous and Qrow could still get out and whatever _whatever_. And would probably go over it again and again, but Qrow wasn't going to back down. He knew it wasn't a lack of faith because Qrow and the others had been needling Oz about the maiden shit for years before Qrow decided to up and make his existence known to the Club to keep a better eye on things. And he knew Ozpin knew better—but old habits and shit.

Qrow leaned forward, raising a speculative eyebrow at Ozpin. “I'm sure you got it in you to clean house at some den. It's gotta be a magic thing, seeing as you're sort of one-fifth Maiden—“

Ozpin threw the shirt in his face with a snort that quickly turned into a yelp as Qrow surged forward and wrapped his arms around him, tipping them back into the bed with a soft thump, knocking Ozpin's glasses askew. They laughed, breathy, giddily, as Qrow slipped them up to rest in his hair. Ozpin's grin faded into a soft, fond smile, one hand braced around Qrow's neck and the other cupping his cheek. His gaze flickered as he traced the line of Qrow's face, amber eyes warm and bright with the incandescent light from the lamp.

Qrow never thought it would be possible for anyone to look at him like this. With contentment and peace. Like he was home.

No, he wasn't rethinking anything at all.

Ozpin threaded his fingers in Qrow's hair and pulled him down for a long, slow kiss.

\---

He kept a few bottles of scotch in the cupboard below the sink for the long nights, or when Raven cropped up in the same middle of bumfuck nowhere as his mission. Ozpin knew about the stash. He had to, but he never brought it up. Even though Qrow knew the drinking still bothered him, and they still argued about it sometimes, he never asked Qrow to quit. Not once.

He still didn't know what to think about it. If Ozpin didn't believe he could, or maybe he thought he didn't have the right to ask.

Not that Ozpin didn't have his own vice to fall back on. They had been in their third year at Beacon when he'd taken up smoking. _Stress_ , he'd said then. Qrow had thought he'd meant school on top of the field assignments they had to complete for certification. Ozpin ranked high in their year—just behind Glynda and Summer who went back and forth for first—so it seemed to check out. Back then, everybody had gone out of their minds trying to catch up.

It hadn't been until much later that Qrow found out the real reason. The Wizard's magic was difficult to control, and the more it grew the more Ozpin had to work to stay ahead. He used to train with the headmistress three nights a week and, according to him, she never went easy. He'd been at it since the middle of their first year, all up to their fourth.

He didn't smoke too often, now. On the really shitty nights after a nightmare, when a mission was going fucking sideways, when he just got real quiet and went to be alone on the roof. Taking just the one cigarette, like any more would be conceding too much.

Qrow had never asked him to quit either. It wasn't the same thing, though. Their reasons, their feelings—even what they got out of it. Maybe that was why they couldn't ask.

There was a part of him that wanted to feel like he'd always known Raven would leave, because the expectation made it easier to accept. But the truth was that he hadn't. Raven had always been loyal to the tribe, even though they gave her a name of omen as well. She didn't bring bad luck like he did, but they fucked her over too because she was Qrow's sister.

It was different for Qrow. While she wanted so badly to belong because they were supposed to be family, Qrow had learned to hate them as soon as he started remembering the rocks. But she'd trained for them, bled for them. Even going to Beacon had been for them because it was important to get a glimpse of the wider world. It made sense to learn about the creatures that were their livelihood.

But Raven had been loyal to him too, despite the tribe. She'd defended him, pulled him up again and again and _again_ , no matter how many times he was beat down, no matter who beat him down, because he was her brother.

And she'd been loyal to Summer and Tai. He knew the realization that family could be found elsewhere, _made_ , had scared her. Because it was a family of choice, not bound by proximity or obligation or responsibility. They didn't have to keep you.

She might not have realized that choice could also mean they wanted you.

She had asked him to go with her, once. Back home. Told him nothing good would come of this war with Salem.

_You could lose everything._

Yeah, he could. But he wasn't going to throw it all away before then. He couldn't. And the world was plenty dangerous with or without Salem.

He wasn't sure how they had shared almost everything and yet knew so little of each other.

\---

“Marry me.”

Ozpin laughed, then dissolved into coughing, bracing a hand against his bandaged ribs and sucking in a harsh breath through his teeth. “Oh, please don't do that,” he said when he got his breath again. “There's only so much morphine they'll give me.”

“I'm serious,” Qrow said, though he wasn't too well in it. He was sort of serious. Ozpin didn't know how long Qrow had to stand off against the hospital staff, looming in the waiting area for hours like some menacing statue. They'd said family only, nevermind that Qrow had literally dropped him on their doorstep. Qrow had almost said he was, because he was as good as, but all he could manage was _'we're huntsman, I'm his partner,'_ and it had still taken them an age to verify their names with the registry, then check that they had taken a bounty in this area, and then— “They tried to call your aunt.”

He sobered a little at that. “Oh.”

“Yeah, 'oh'.” Qrow had to explain that his aunt had died years ago, and the nurse had looked at him skeptically, like people didn't forget to update that shit all the time. Hell, he still had Raven's old defunct number under his record. “So, let's get hitched and make this all easier.”

Ozpin sighed. “Qrow.”

“I don't have a lot of money, so you'll have to settle for silver toilets and fake furs. And I know I'm not much to look at—” Ozpin made a soft, skeptical noise and Qrow couldn't help the little gratified smirk quirking his lips— “but neither are you, so it's fair.”

“Is this how a proposal is meant to go?” Ozpin said, laughing quietly. “I suppose a ring would be asking for too much?”

“Rings are a Twin Goddesses thing.”

“And?”

Qrow raised an eyebrow. “Since when were you religious?”

“My aunt always said that you couldn't go wrong with the Twins. They're benevolent, nonjudgmental, and their only message is harmony with all things.”

“You hate wearing rings,” Qrow pointed out.

“Ah. Well, that's a small detail.” Ozpin's smile faded a little, and he slumped further into the pillows, his stare uncomfortably knowing. “I'm fine, Qrow. Really.”

Ozpin had this way of getting right to the heart of a matter and missing the point all at once. He was fine now, for a given and super fucking loose definition of it. But now was not before, when Qrow had carried him all the way from the forest until he'd dropped down with him in the hospital entrance. When there had been more blood on their clothes than in his body, when the staff had taken him from Qrow and forced him to wait almost a whole day because of red fucking tape.

And now was not later, when this was definitely going to happen again and Qrow might not make it.

But Ozpin wasn't quite looking at anything anymore, eyes dark and half-lidded with exhaustion, so Qrow dropped it. Leaning forward in his seat, he took Ozpin's hand in both of his and let his head drop on top of them, relaxing his shoulders a bit when Ozpin squeezed back. “At least change your family contact stuff, just in case,” he said, half into the sheets. “Make something up. I'm sure Glynda could pass as your sister.”

Ozpin didn't reply, but Qrow felt him shake with silent laughter.

\---

He wouldn't have thought so years ago, but family life suited Taiyang and Summer. A cozy cabin on a tiny island, two kids, a puppy. It was disgustingly beautiful.

He said so, and Summer swatted him.

Taiyang and Ozpin were in the yard, helping the girls catch the faerie lights Ozpin had conjured up. Tai had been a little concerned that he was using the Wizard's magic like it was some kind of party trick, but Ozpin had assured him that using it for frivolous things was the best.

He'd have to stop someday soon, though. Yang remembered that he could make tiny flowers bloom from snow-covered ground, all because she wanted to show Ruby how to chain them, and Ozpin was not very good at saying no to her. They couldn't keep explaining those kinds of things away.

He looked up as Summer placed a cup of coffee in front of him. “You're looking kinda lost there,” she said, taking her seat beside him.

He shook his head. “It's been a long week.” Easy mission, for once. Just a long journey back through the snow. Visiting James had cheered Ozpin up a good deal, though, so it was maybe sort of worth it even though he'd been convinced for a while there that his balls had frozen right off.

“How's James?”

“Still a stick in—”

_“Qrow.”_

He swore she and Oz practiced that particular tone of disapproval together. “He's all right. He's getting fitted for a new prosthetic soon. Misses Vale's food. Oz gave him an entire duffel bag of just snacks and Jimmy kinda teared up. It was scary. But he appreciated it, which, you know, he fucking better. Oz lugged that thing the whole way, almost lost it to some hungry Ursa. He guarded that bag with his life. I was jealous.”

Summer laughed into her mug.

“How did your visit with Tai's dad go?”

She grinned and took out her scroll. “I think he and the girls managed to bake every kind of cookie ever. No part of the kitchen remained unscathed, but Tai cleaned it all up.” She passed him the scroll. On the screen, there was a picture of the girls and Tai's dad covered in flour and bits of dough, beaming and laughing. “They didn't want to leave,” she said, a little sadly. “I mean, they see him every month, and when Tai and I go on missions together, but—it's saying goodbye, you know? It's hard every time.”

He nodded. He stared at the picture a bit longer before passing the scroll back to her. “Remember when Tai's dad would always tell him he'd want to settle down someday?”

“'A wanderer's life suits some, but not you,'” Summer recalled, smiling brightly at the memory. “'You like roots. That's why you always come home.' I think he was talking to all of us.”

“Me too.” Tai's dad had sort of adopted his son's team. He liked taking care of people. Back when they were in school, they'd visit on holidays or if a mission took them near the area. He seemed to think they all must have Tai's appetite because he'd cook enough to feed ten people and send them back with the leftovers, plus all the extra he'd made prior specifically for them to take back. They shared with Oz, James, and Glynda because they actually did have Tai's level of appetite and would tidily demolish everything put in front of them.

“Thinking of putting down roots?” Summer said, eyeing him carefully.

“I think I already did,” he admitted, surprising himself. He'd known, of course he had to, but—it was different when he said it out loud. Gave it meaning.

“Does Oz know?”

He shot her an incredulous look and then deadpanned, “No, my boyfriend has no idea he's stuck with me for the foreseeable future.”

“My condolences,” she chuckled, snorting when Qrow crossed his arms and tried to look as sullen as possible. “But really, congratulations,” she continued gently, smiling.

He frowned, bemused. “We—what? It's not like we're doing anything. Nothing's changed.”

It was her turn to look incredulous. “Everything's changed. Do you have any idea how hard we were all rooting for you two when we were in school? James and Tai came up with so many stupid plans, oh my god. Every time you got stuck in a broom closet or locked in the gym, that was them. Rae thought you were stupid and Glynda thought Oz was stupid and—I fucking swear—they had bets going on your stupid. But you were so busy brooding and he was so busy being tragic and—“ she wrung her hands as if that described better than words how she felt— “ _augh_ , the two of you were so _frustrating_.”

He felt his mouth twitch at 'tragic'. “Sorry we caused you all such pain.”

“Lies,” she hissed, but she was covering her mouth with her coffee mug.

“Did I really brood that much?”

“Yes.”

“Was Oz actually tragic?”

“The most.”

Well, fuck. “You're never going to let us live it down, are you?”

“Nope.”

He raised his mug. “Yeah, didn't think so.” Then everything else caught up with him and clicked: “Wait, _that's_ why we ended up in so many broom closets?” All this time, he'd thought it was his semblance kicking in to make him embarrassed on top of miserable.

“Tai and James were _invested_.”

\---

Hospitals always smelled so _clean_. Qrow knew he was in one without having to open his eyes. He only sort of remembered why he'd be here, but what little he did remember convinced him not to try getting back the rest just yet.

“Do you know,” Ozpin's quiet voice said from his left, “they wouldn't let me in. Because I am not Raven. Or Taiyang. Or Summer. I considered posing as Taiyang, though I am not built like he is, but Summer thought I would do better as Raven and we couldn't come to an agreement on wigs or sock placement.”

“Should have been Summer,” Qrow said, slurred. Oh, he was definitely on the good stuff. Speaking was hard, even though he was trying to enunciate his words. He felt like he had cotton balls in his mouth.

“Taiyang did say as much. But as I would need to find a way to lose a foot off my height, I decided against it. So I posed as an orderly instead.”

_That_ got Qrow to open his eyes. There was a scroll with its flashlight on resting on top of his gauze-wrapped knee, pointing at the ceiling which spread the light and illuminated the general area around his bed in a soft, white glow. Ozpin stood by the bed with his arms crossed, a surgical mask dangling in one hand, dressed in plain blue hospital scrubs. But that was not what caught his attention.

“Did you _dye your hair_?”

Ozpin fingered a lock of it, tugging gently at the black strands. “Yes. Summer said it should wash out in two weeks.”

“What for?”

“White hair is rather conspicuous around these parts. The nurse at the front thought I was a Schnee, actually, and I was very tempted to say I was just to see if they'd let me in on pure bluster alone. Also, I stood in that waiting room for a day and a half, so I am certain most of the staff will recognize me for a while.”

“Huh.” Qrow squinted at him. “Been a long time since your hair was—um. Like that.” He waved vaguely at his own head with the hand that wasn't trapped in a cast.

“Yes,” Ozpin said with a low chuckle.

“You look damn good,” and the _'good'_ was drawn out. “I mean, you always look damn good, but you look real damn good now, too.”

Ozpin smiled, and maybe it was the drugs or maybe Qrow was just really fucking happy to see him, but his chest felt suddenly full, simultaneously light and heavy, like it had butterflies flapping around and crowding for space to sit on his heart.

Then he frowned. “Wait. You waited a whole half a day?”

“A day and a half,” came the correction. “Not the last half because I realized it was pointless.”

“Aw. But. Now it's uneven.”

“If you like, I could come back tomorrow and wait the last half.”

“Really?” Qrow perked up, straightening a little in the bed. “You'd do that for me?”

Shaking with restrained laughter, Ozpin just nodded.

“That's real nice.” But then he had a better idea. “I got a better idea.”

“And what is that?”

“Wait the whole half now 'cause you're already here. Then you don't have to tomorrow.”

Ozpin's expression crumpled in devastation. “Oh, Qrow,” he whispered, “I can't be caught like this.”

“But I missed you,” Qrow said. And it was true. He'd woken up a few times before now, but Ozpin hadn't been here.

“And I missed you.”

“Then stay? Please?”

Ozpin looked between the door and Qrow, expression completely unreadable, then he walked around the bed and drew the curtain so it blocked the door from sight. His gaze softened as he took a seat on the bed and reached out to rest his hand on Qrow's head, away from the bandages. “Get some rest.”

“You're gonna leave.”

“No, I won't,” Ozpin said softly. “I promise. Though, I might be arrested before you wake up.”

“Tai and Summer—they'll bail you out.”

“After they stop laughing.” But Ozpin didn't appear to be bothered by that very real possibility. He was smiling, obviously amused by the idea.

Suddenly, the realness of the moment hit Qrow—really hit—because he was half mummified but still alive, and Oz was here. Sitting there with shitty dye in his hair and risking arrest all to see Qrow. He'd infiltrated the hospital in a disguise he'd probably put together in two minutes just to make sure Qrow's idiot ass was okay.

_Holy shit._

“Hey,” he said, abruptly, feeling jittery all of a sudden—with panic or realization, he didn't know. “Talk about something? Anything. I—“ _want to hear your voice—_ “am bored as fuck.”

Ozpin made a noise like a snort in the back of his throat. “Well, that won't do.” He edged closer, lifting Qrow's good hand with both of his own, letting them rest loosely on his thigh as he rubbed a thumb along the inside of Qrow's wrist. “The magazines in the waiting room are woefully outdated, but I did find a fascinating story about a hunter who dived into a swamp to avoid a horde of Lancers...”

\---

The next time Qrow woke up, it was to Summer and Tai's quiet murmurs as they spoke by the window. They were facing away from the bed, and Qrow couldn't quite muster the energy to speak.

Ozpin was still with him, obviously not arrested after all. He was asleep, leaning against the wall in a chair that hadn't been there last night. Tai's long coat had been draped over him, but Qrow could see the telltale blue of the scrubs where his shoulder wasn't covered. He was still holding Qrow's hand in one of his own.

In that moment, something turned to steel within him, a resolve that had been winding up since last night when Ozpin had sat there trying to talk Qrow to sleep, deep shadows beneath his eyes and a slight tremble in his hands that spoke of sleepless nights.

Well.

It had been winding for a while, really. He was sure that this was what he wanted, as sure as he'd ever been of anything, except for how Ozpin would respond.

\---

It would have been funny if it were anyone but him.

And anyone except Ozpin, who went very still as Qrow got down on one wobbly knee. It would have been a greater gesture if Ozpin weren't sitting on the ground, back against the broken wall of a long ruined building.

They were both bruised and scraped and bloody, aura low and so utterly exhausted that they'd opted to hide in a little corner and wait for Glynda and Summer to go steal a dropship and pick them up from the dilapidated city.

And Qrow figured, _fuck it_ , why not.

“If you're doing what I think you're doing,” Ozpin said faintly, visibly swallowing, “this doesn't seem like the right time.”

“I'd argue this is the perfect time. You can't run away.”

He rasped a laugh. “Who said I would run?”

No, he wouldn't run. And when Qrow had realized that so, so long ago, it had almost been too much to accept.

The truth was, no time seemed like the right time. He'd debated everything. Taking Ozpin out to dinner, but he didn't like the idea of a bunch of random people ogling while he bared his heart. He'd considered making dinner himself, but Qrow's cooking skills only extended as far as fried eggs and toast. He'd thought about asking on a normal, quiet day at home, but that didn't seem like enough to encompass the sheer enormity of what he really wanted to say. All Qrow knew he wanted for certain was privacy and somewhere memorable that would do justice to all of the good and terrible things he felt every second he was around this indescribable, ridiculous moron.

And, well, an abandoned city infested with grimm was pretty fucking private and memorable, wasn't it? When the job was done and the dust was settled, hovering in that wrenching, transitional instant of taking it all in—hurt but alive, alive, _alive_ —and realizing that there was time for more. So much more.

Qrow didn't want to waste any more of it.

“Oz, our lives are scary. Really, really fucking scary. It occurs to me like all the damn time that I could lose you or you could lose me. And we would have to keep going, because we'd never let each other settle for less. But even with all that, I love you. Not because I can't help it, but because I choose to. I want—“ _to wake up next to you, to dance to shitty music in our shitty apartment, to laugh and cry and live—_ “Everything. I want _everything_ with you.”

He was barely able to end his sentence before he was suddenly knocked flat on his ass, his arms full with clinging boyfriend. Ozpin had his arms wrapped around Qrow's shoulders, his face buried in the side of his neck, and he was shaking as much as Qrow.

“That was quite good,” Ozpin said hoarsely. “But where's the ring?”

“You don't wear rings. And I wasn't finished,” Qrow chuckled, unable to keep the crooked smile off his face. “Shit, I had this whole thing where I was gonna wax poetic about your eyes and the first time we met and—and all that other good stuff.” He didn't, but he'd been prepared to make up something because the whole time he'd been speaking, Ozpin had had the most blank look on his face. Like he hadn't been able to understand what was happening. Qrow had been a little afraid that he'd broken him.

“I think I can do without.” He pulled back slightly, settling further on Qrow's lap. His eyes were bright and wet, flickering with uncertainty. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

And Qrow understood that he was asking about much more than themselves. It was committing to this life, all of it, everyone in it, for better or worse. It was about living with the constant terror that it could all fall apart, and still be willing to find worth.

Even after all this time, after everything they had been through, and after Qrow had just finished putting his heart in Ozpin's hands, there was still _this_. The hesitation and fear, the confusion that any of this could be real, that he could be wanted like this. Qrow knew it, because he felt the same way all the fucking time, and that was—not okay, but they could work at it and someday it would be better.

Which was fine. Qrow was in it for the long haul. If there had ever been any question, there wasn't now. He was serious about wanting everything, because wanting everything was the only way he could have the best of it all.

Ozpin had grown tense in the silence, but Qrow smiled, snaking his arms around Ozpin's waist, holding him firmly in place. And then Qrow answered, finally, by leaning in and pressing his lips against Ozpin's. The kiss was careful and soft, and when he moved back brown eyes fluttered open, wide and stunned.

“Yes,” Ozpin said, abruptly. “My answer's yes.”

Qrow laughed. “I didn't even pop the question yet. How do you know I wasn't buttering you up so I could ask for a cat—”

“Please shut up,” and then Ozpin fell in, stifling the rest of Qrow's words with another kiss.

\---

Qrow would have been happy just waiting a couple of hours in line at Vale's district office and getting a piece of paper stamped, but Ozpin convinced him to endure the tiny ceremony. “For the cake,” he said, but Qrow knew he found everyone's enthusiasm both endearing and hilarious.

Taiyang insisted on officiating, getting himself a 24-hour permit from the church of the Twins, even pulling out his old graduation robes to look more the part because those were the only robes he owned. Ruby and Yang toddled around and took their duties very seriously, madly throwing flower petals while Zwei barked happily and ran in circles. Glynda, infinitely patient, stood behind them, using her semblance to gather up the wayward flora and float it back into the baskets for further flinging. Next to the triple chocolate cream cake that Tai, Summer, and Glynda had lost a good night's sleep making, James and Summer sat back, unashamedly laughing at the whole thing.

It was really noisy and way too windy and not much like he thought any kind of wedding was supposed to be. But the cake was fucking amazing, the company even better, and he got to dance the shittiest waltz with Oz, the both of them falling into each other and howling with laughter.

Qrow wrapped the memory of this day as well and carefully as he could, and danced with Ozpin until the sun faded beneath the trees.

\---

Years and years later, after the job was finally done, the dust had settled over the remnants of history, and the magic of the world was literally five minutes buried into the earth, Qrow dragged himself over to Ozpin, heedless of the fiery ruin around them. It wasn't going to be fiery for all that long, not with Winter and Weiss charging at all the straggling grimm with their ice constructs. Behind them, hanging to the side of the crowd that had gathered around a piece of broken stained glass, he saw Ren and Oscar exchange identical looks of confused horror as they watched the Schnee rampage.

He patted Ozpin's cheek, holding his breath as he groaned and blinked awake, dazed but more or less lucid. Good. Qrow could yell at him later for being the epitome of reckless. Right now, he had something else in mind.

“Hey. Remember, before the world exploded, I said I had something to show you?” He pulled out a battered green, velvet box as Ozpin gingerly sat up. “For a minute there, I thought I wasn't going to get the chance.”

The look on Ozpin's face alone was worth the effort of keeping the box safe through the whole fucking apocalypse.

“Sorry I took a million years. I wasn't sure, you see, about your color. You don't have to wear it on your finger,” he assured, opening the box and producing a simple platinum ring on a thin silver chain. “I got you covered.”

Ozpin stared, incredulous, as Qrow reached around his neck to fasten it. The ring glittered bright and warm with the flames, the light flickering and dancing over the smooth surface. For a very long moment, Ozpin rolled it between his fingers, his expression soft and open. “Your timing leaves much to be desired,” he said, voice cracked and low, and then he smiled.

Qrow grinned and felt— _good_. Wholly, almost unbearably good. The first time in a very, very long while. He honestly had no idea what to do with it.

So he did something he had been wanting to do for the last several hours: he slumped forward, pulled Ozpin into his arms, and just held on. “Nah. It's fucking perfect.”

And it was, because now they had all the time in the world.

-


End file.
